Human As Destroyer

Has anyone ever noticed that humans seem to be hell bent on self destruction?  Yes, tons of people have pointed out that we are essentially a literal virus on the host body of the earth.  But really let it sink in.  Every other animal has instincts that guide it towards life.  Every single one.  Every plant.  Every animal.  Everything with life in it seeks more life.  Except humans.

Imagine a world with no humans.  Imagine the tremendous zen of this concept.  An entire planet covered in things all striving for more and more life.  Death exists, because without it, life could not.  But no animals killing each other for no purpose.  No animals killing themselves.  No animals killing thousands of other animals for the sake of money or prosperity.  No prosperity.  No money.  It would be nature, naturally.

But we are here.  We, the creators of guns and bombs and poisons and nuclear reactor meltdowns and medical testing and pollution.  We are here.  Correct me if I am wrong, but no other species has such a thing as suicide.  Imagine it, the very concept of a dolphin deciding that it has nothing left to live for.  A cactus wren resting on the desert floor, waiting for a bobcat.  It does not exist.  All animals are geared for life.  There are rare instances in which one animal inhabits the brain of another and forces that animal's body to commit itself to death (see: thousands of videos about parasitic worms that make ants stand out on branches waiting to get eaten).  It could be argued, I suppose, that this happens to people, too.  That our "parasitic worm" that takes over people's minds and makes them act against nature is something we call "mental illness."  Or, we could more realistically examine our lives.  We live on giant fields of concrete, formed of the crushed memories of mountains.  We sleep hundreds of feet in the sky, on top of fake ducks.  We eat things that do not grow.  We create food.  So arrogant as to think that there is not plenty available already, we make more.  And then we throw it all away.  We create wars, since suicide isn't fast enough.  We create great machines that collapse and kills hundreds or thousands at a time.  We have accidents, and whole countries get cancer.  We have cancer.  We are not some supreme destroying force.  We are a supremely self-destructive force.  We will not destroy the earth.  The rest of creation simply tolerates our presence.  One day, when our air is too thick to pass through our lungs and into our bloodstreams, when our water is too blackened to swallow, when our food is made only of plastic, we will simply cease to be.  And dolphins will still swim.  And cactus wrens will still fly.  And bobcats will still try to eat cactus wrens.  There will be fewer of them, but they will not be destroyed by us.  We are an accident.  We are not the proof of evolution, but rather the DISproof of it.  What other animal evolves to point of self-destruction?  None.  Or if it has, it surely does not matter all.

We Are Not Wolves, Though We Should Wish To Be

I realized, sometime during the past two months, that people really like to refer to humans as "pack-animals."  They like to say that we operate best as a community, and that we are genetically designed to seek communion with each other.  They say that isolative people die younger, and have greater rates of depression.  They often compare humans to wolves, which is weird because, as far as I know, wolves only exhibit the frequently referenced wolf-pack hierarchy (alpha, beta, omega) in captivity.  In other words, people love to say that wolves exist in highly structured packs that are run by the dominant or "alpha" male.  Second in line is the beta, who acts sort of like a servant to the alpha.  Last in line is the omega who apparently is just everybody's bitch.  In reality though, wolves only do that when they are packed together with wolves that they are unaccustomed to (like they would be in a zoo or a refuge or something).  In the wild, wolves travel as families.  Father, mother, kids.  Cousins?  I don't know, I'm not some wolf expert.  My point is that the "wolf pack" that everyone loves to reference so much is actually an artificial construct that is sort of a due directly to the meddling of man, or possibly to extraordinary natural circumstances (disasters, famine, etc). 

I've been thinking about this concept for a while though.  Before I learned that about the wolves.  It seems to me that the people who insist that humans are pack animals are generally members of the pack.  They aren't the Alphas.  They aren't the leaders.  They are people who are confident in their incompetence, and know that without a strong leader guiding them, they would not survive.  They may not be stupid, or weak.  But they are afraid.  And furthermore, it seems that the leaders generally look at the pack as a group of pitiful creatures.  People who can not care for themselves.  And so the leader is there.  To make the decisions, and to save people from their own backward instincts.  We are so firmly modernized that we say things like "Without air conditioning, he could die!"  Granted, people die all the time in Phoenix (where I currently am) from heat related issues, but think about how long we as a species survived in all sorts of environments without air conditioning.  Cars.  Sunscreen.  Rectal exams.  Flavored yogurt NOW! with Fiber!  It seems that we are this weird accident that inexplicably continues to propagate, and the rest of creation is just waiting for us to go away so that they can get on with it.

Quick update: Mensa

So about three or four weeks ago I scheduled a few hours of my Sunday afternoon off, and took the Mensa entrance exam.

It was administered at the Glendale Library, and lasted about an hour and a half or so.  If I had to guess, I would say that about 12 people were in that room with me, taking their chances. 

First, you take the Wonderlic, which is the very same test that all incoming NFL players take.  I suppose that it measures your general problem solving abilities, which may be of some use to scouts who are assessing a player's possible effectiveness.  Now, if you score in the top 1-2% on this exam, you qualify for Mensa.  I remember the test being like 8-10 minutes long, but having an impossible (pretty much literally) 50 questions that get harder as you go along. 

After the Wonderlic, you take the actual Mensa test, which I guess is designed and edited by Mensa members or something.  It was 7 or 8 sections of anywhere from 15 to 30 questions, and each section was 15 minutes or less.  Most of the sections were analogy-type questions where they'd show you a hat and a head, then a shoe, and the correct answer is '"foot."  Stuff like that.

I chatted with the proctors (who were very nice, by the way) after the exam, and they clarified that you have to score top 1-2% compared to the general population, not just compared to everyone who has ever taken the exam (I would imagine that the population that takes the exam is probably slightly above average in intelligence, or else they wouldn't even try.  But I could be wrong).  They said that somewhere around half of the people in the room that day may qualify, or no one at all.  They added that usually at least one or two people get in at each exam. 

Anywho, to jump to the chase, I received a letter at my parents' house today.  My mom opened it and informed me that I got in.  Woot.  They don't tell you what your score was, only that you qualified or didn't qualify.  Then they ask for money.  Natch.  Resume builder!